


josh's poetry

by joshwrites



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Anxiety, Bad Poetry, Break Up, Childhood Poetry, Depression, Falling In Love, Fear, Feelings, Heartbreak, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Loneliness, Mental Health Issues, Other, Poetry, Suicidal Thoughts, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2018-12-15 08:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 3,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11801844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshwrites/pseuds/joshwrites
Summary: Posting this here because I'm tired of Fanfiction.net harassing me about having it on there.Just some poetry I've written whilst growing up, a lot of it done for school. You can read it if you like or not, it's up to you.Might upload some more soon.





	1. The Rising of the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poetry that I've written whilst growing up, some written for school and some written for my own pleasure.

**  
The Rising Of The Sun**

The dark, misty, engulfing night sky screams  
And through the cracks, the sun beams.

The night sky wraths violently trying to escape the sturdy grip of the light,  
It draws its bloody sword and slashes out at the light and then erupts the fight.

The night rolls as the sun's vibrant colours stream through it with ease.  
The dark slashes, screams and roars before he reframes to plead.

The sun climbs up coiling through the sky,  
lacing blacks and blues with the reds and yellows.

The night whimpers swirling into the strong colours,  
beginning to mellow.

The light covers the sky executing the night's grime,  
The war is over the darkness is eliminated, 'I still have time...'


	2. The Warm and The Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poetry that I've written whilst growing up, some written for school and some written for my own pleasure.

**  
The Warm and The Cold**

Freezing dusk is closing  
Like a slow trap of steel  
On trees and roads and hills and all  
That can no longer feel

But the birds are in their cosy nest  
Like a conker in its spiky shell  
And the fish are in their icy sea  
Like some coins in a gold pot  
The dog is in its comfy bed  
Like a teddy in its old dusty box  
And the cows are in their smelly shed  
Like matches in a small box

Freezing dust has tightened  
Like a nut screwed tightened  
On the starry aeroplane  
Of the soaring night  
But the horse in its hay-filled stable  
Like an Eskimo it its warm tent  
The pig is in its muddy sty  
Like a sausage in a grill pan  
And the cat is with its wriggling mouse  
Like some balls of fluffy wool  
And the rabbit is in its wooden hutch  
Like a golf ball down a deep hole.


	3. Body and Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poetry that I've written whilst growing up, some written for school and some written for my own pleasure.

**  
** ** Body And Soul **

The hills stretch to strike the sky  
And gash a hole through cloud,  
Which then bleeds to hilltop  
A white and smothering shroud.

Water gushes down grass limbs,  
Seeping from sky-grazed top,  
Oozing, trickling, dripping,  
Staining drop by drop.

These great towering mounds of earth,  
For kingship do they rise,  
To seize nature's unclaimed demesne,  
A kingdom in the skies.

But these hills themselves are ruled;  
What a futile throne!  
How mocking a height for mere semblance  
That cannot live alone.

The selves of real being lie far below:  
In holes that reflect the hill's awe,  
As personality's essence drains,  
To the watered valley floor.

Intricate exposure of being,  
These mirrors of life reveal all,  
Encapsulated emotion lies  
Deep within each pool.

So there forms the scene:  
Changing mound and hole,  
The body bleeds its lifeblood to  
The very Lakeland soul.


	4. The Lonely Miller

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poetry that I've written whilst growing up, some written for school and some written for my own pleasure.

**The Lonely Miller**

The air is clear, the air is still,  
The wheel is turning at the old watermill,  
But nobody lives there, not anymore,  
Why it is empty no one is sure.

It is said that many winters ago,  
A man came walking over the snow,  
He stopped at the mill, begging shelter and food,  
But the miller said no, he was terribly rude.

So the mysterious man stayed out in the cold,  
But he was not very young and his chest wouldn't hold,  
Early next morning he collapsed to the ground  
And when the miller came out, a dead man he found.

The miller buried him in hills far away,  
He fought a battle to keep his conscience at bay,  
But it became too much, he had to give in,  
He couldn't forget his terrible sin.

The rest of his life was a time of despair,  
He stayed forever in his miserable lair,  
He died very young, nobody knew,  
Nobody cared, it's sad but it's true.

It is rumoured that now if you enter his home,  
You will find his ghost wandering, all alone,  
And the ghost of the man is supposedly still  
Walking and walking over the hill.


	5. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poetry that I've written whilst growing up, some written for school and some written for my own pleasure.

**  
Morning**

Glowing golden ball of light  
Rising from the land of night  
Growing slowly, bit by bit  
'Til the whole wide world is lit

A flush, a rush, a burst of life  
Back to the realm of earthly strife  
No longer quiet land of Nod  
Back to the world of sky and sod

Lots of flitting to and fro  
Where've you come from? Where'll you go?  
Busy rushing here and there  
Birds on trees and birds in air

Happy working, happy play  
Rising in the light of day  
Working hard, as hard as can be  
Playing just as happily

Every morning, every year  
The joyous chorus you can hear  
'Hail the morning,' creatures say  
'Hail the start of this new day!'


	6. My War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poetry that I've written whilst growing up, some written for school and some written for my own pleasure.

  
**My War**  
  
I can hear people screaming, I can see them cry,  
the noise is horrendous and the sirens never die.  
The heart pounding, sounds of gunshots outside,  
men and women all frightened and trying to hide.  
But I'm safe because I don't live there.  
  


The report on the TV described the scene,  
a picture of a child in blood-soaked jeans.  
My mum said he was my age, which made me stop and think,  
this lost, dying boy made my heart sink.  
But I'm safe because I don't live there.  
  


Today at school we did a project on the news,  
I chose to write about the boy and how he changed my views.  
I drew a picture of that boy with his blood stained tears  
and I tried to imagine what it was like to live in such fear.  
But I still feel safe because I don't live there.  
  


I never thought I'd see the day my father went to war,  
dressed up in his uniform, he stood there by the door.  
He said goodbye to everyone and held my mother's hand,  
he said he'd be back soon, then he left for another land.

  
There are flowers all around me while a mournful hymn is sung,  
my children stand beside me, whilst the church bells are rung.  
My mother, older now, still dressed in mourning black,  
she sings and cries tears, just like the lost boy in Iraq  
and as I hold my baby's hand and stroke her silky hair,  
I pray that she'll be safe, as she doesn't live there.


	7. Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poetry that I've written whilst growing up, some written for school and some written for my own pleasure.

**  
Life **

  
I can't tell you how many times I've sat up at night crying;

Crying for my loneliness that never seems to sleep,

Crying for my family that doesn't want to believe,

that I truly am miserable, that I truly am weak.  
  
  


I don't know what it is that makes me so afraid of love;

Could it be that I've been lied to nearly every time?

Or is that I'm not enough to make a woman stay, to hold me

and to need me, to never walk astray?  
  
  


So tell me, why is it my friendships crumble;

Is it because I can't seem to stare reality in the face?

Am I the one who's truly lost, and cannot find his place?

Because I never had the courage to stand up and say,

"I really do love you all, but I'm terrified of this place.

I do not want to die, I simply want to leave. How does

my smile have such power to deceive?"  
  
  


I don't know how it is I let myself come so low;

I'm sorry for hating everything, and especially most of all,

Hating myself for feeling this way, so empty and so cold.

Maybe one day you'll realise all I wanted was to be told;

"I love you, and I need you. Please don't leave tonight.

We can make memories; I'll take you higher than flight.

Please don't leave I beg of you, I've loved you from the start,

but like you I'm cold and broken, and need a candle to my dark.  
  
  


So baby, stay here with me, I promise we'll make it through,

I love you more than anything, and I believe in you."


	8. You Murdered My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poetry that I've written whilst growing up, some written for school and some written for my own pleasure.

**  
You Murdered My Heart**

  
Your throat is burdened with the lies I cannot take;  
My lips are sealed with all your mistakes,  
You filled my veins with pure hate,  
There's nothing but sadness here.  
I'm not broken; I'm just not okay;  
I'm not hurt; I'm just not whole anymore.  
  


I tossed all your memories into flames,  
I left you to rot, alone in your grave,  
Because you killed our love,  
Because you killed my future,  
You murdered my heart.  
  


I'm not missing you, because you tore out my chest,  
You left me in shambles, alone in this house.  
I can't pay the rent, can't afford the heat,  
Now I sleep with the cold and loneliness I bare,  
And now I lay awake at night, and miss you there.  
  


But I don't regret it, because you loved me so well,  
Yes we fought, yes we cried.  
But love, can't you recall all the lullabies I sang to you,  
When you slept,  
I remember them all too well;  
I hear them in my dreams.  
  


I tossed all your things into flames,  
I left your picture to rot, alone in the grave,  
Because I killed our love,  
Because I killed my future,  
You murdered my heart.


	9. Happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poetry that I've written whilst growing up, some written for school and some written for my own pleasure.

**  
Happy **

  
You bloomed my garden of wilting roses; with simply a touch.  
  
You calmed my angry oceans; with nothing more than a stare.  
  
You turned my bees into butterflies; with little more than a laugh.  
  
You lit my darkness with lights so bright; using nothing more than a smile.  
  
You kept me safe; with only the sound of your voice.  
  
You make me warm; using your fingertips, alone.  
  
You wake me in the morning, and it feels so good.  
  
You give me something to look forward to; and for that, I can never thank you.  
  
You picked me up when I was weak, and now I'm stronger.  
  
You saved my skin; yours against mine feels so much better.  
  
You give me happiness, and it's something I'm going to cling to.  
  
You made me feel beautiful when I felt so hopeless, and that makes me happy,  
  
  
Truly Happy.


	10. Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poetry that I've written whilst growing up, some written for school and some written for my own pleasure.

**  
Monsters **

  
It has claws used for holding, and manipulating.  
  
Eyes for sight; distant and near.  
  
It has a tail receding into its back, small and blunt.  
  
It has no scales, no fur, nor bumps upon its surface;  
  
only skin.  
  
  
Its teeth are sharp, and dull. For grinding and chewing,  
  
thought it rather use tools.  
  
It has no wings, no gills or talons.  
  
Only hatred, and love.  
  
The scariest weapon of all,  
  
belonging to the scariest of monsters.


	11. When No One Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poetry that I've written whilst growing up, some written for school and some written for my own pleasure.

**  
** **When No One Knows**  


As he walks alone,  
No one understands,  
All the troubles he holds,  
Clenched within his hands.

One foot in front of the other,  
Can't even hold his head high,  
His mind's swirling in thought,  
Always wondering why.

The sun spilt its secrets,  
And bestowed them upon him,  
Now with no guide in the sky,  
He's lost, nowhere to turn.

The worthless doubt that he carries,  
Keeps on weighing him down,  
Sitting in the back of his mind,  
Saying I'll always be around.

He tried to fight for freedom,  
An independence of his own,  
Crying out for help,  
I can't do this alone.

So as he runs out of hope,  
And finally gives in,  
A delicate voice says,  
'You know you can win.'

Putting the pieces back together,  
He breaks into a run,  
Freeing himself from the world,  
Vanishing in the colours of the sun.


	12. Too Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poetry that I've written whilst growing up, some written for school and some written for my own pleasure.

  
**Too Late**  
  
  
I was at the edge of the cliff,  
  
ready to jump.  
  
I looked to you,  
  
hoping you would try and stop me.  
  
you looked at me  
  
and sighed  
  
because you were tired  
  
of trying to help me.  
  
By the time you took  
  
a simple step forward,  
  
I was already  
  
plummeting towards  
  
the ground.


	13. Numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poetry that I've written whilst growing up, some written for school and some written for my own pleasure.

  
**Numb**  
  
  
He didn't care about himself anymore,  
  
but he cared about others.  
  
He would go out of his way to save someone,  
  
anyone.  
  
Even though he knew he could not save himself.  
  
That was the only humanity he had left in himself.  
  
Other than that all he felt was,  
  
numb numb numb.


	14. Tired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poetry that I've written whilst growing up, some written for school and some written for my own pleasure.

  
**Tired**  
  
  
I'm tired.  
Tired of the constancy,  
the constancy of judgment.  
Tired of hiding,  
hiding who I really am.  
Tired of trying to stay strong.  
  
I'm tired.  
Tired of pretending,  
pretending to be happy when all I want to do is cry.  
Tired of not being able to let go,  
let go of all the pain and emotions that consume me.  
Tired of feeling worthless.  
  
I'm tired.  
Tired of being put down,  
put down by the people I felt closest to.  
Tired of dreaming,  
dreaming of a life I will never have.  
Tired of not being good enough.  
  
I'm tired.  
Tired of remembering,  
remembering how I used to be so happy.  
Tired of the blame,  
the blame I put on myself daily.  
Tired of the anger.  
  
I'm tired.  
Tired of crying,  
crying in the shower so nobody can hear.  
Tired of the fear,  
the fear of being judged, hurt, and alone.  
Tired of failing.  
  
I'm tired.  
Tired of holding on when all I want to do is give up.  
Tired of being tired.  
Tired of being me.


	15. Imagine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poetry that I've written whilst growing up, some written for school and some written for my own pleasure.

  
**Imagine**  
  
  
Imagine yourself  
Alone in your head.  
You're hanging, dangling  
From a silver thread.

Empty, alone  
With the monsters within.  
Internally screaming,  
You just want to give in.

Now imagine that's you  
Every day, every hour.  
Forever sinking  
Like a wilting flower.

You try to tell your father  
And you try to tell your mother,  
But they say you're being silly,  
You've just got to move on.

Because teens don't know sorrow  
Nor the hardships of life.  
They're just kids with imaginations  
Just looking for attention, right?

You think that there's no one  
Who knows how you feel.  
You're just so alone,  
But the feelings- they're real.

Useless,  
Neglected,  
Forgotten,  
Distressed.

Alone,  
Afraid,  
But mostly  
Depressed.

And you're friends,  
They go on  
Like nothing has changed.

"They must not care,"  
Your thoughts whisper,  
The lies in your brain.

You can't escape it,  
Trapped in your own skin.  
You're ugly,  
You're hated,  
But you mask it with a grin.

You hate what you feel,  
So instead you feel nothing.  
Your insides are numb,  
Your confidence crumbling.

You look to other things  
To stop the pain.  
Cutting, pills,  
But it gives you no gain.

And the people around you  
Shout abuse your way.  
"You're hurting yourself, stop it!"  
That's all they ever say.

No matter how you plead  
That you're broken inside,  
They turn the other way,  
They run, they hide.

They say you're just foolish,  
It's all in your head.  
What they don't know is inside  
You're already dead.


	16. Hating You Sweetly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poetry that I've written whilst growing up, some written for school and some written for my own pleasure.

  
**Hating You Sweetly**  
  
  
I looked for a word to say,  
but could not find one that day.  
  
  
I wished for a word that would stay in your heart,  
That would show you exactly what tore us apart.  
  
  
I hate what you did; I hate you so deeply.  
I hate what you said; I hate you so sweetly.  
  
  
I look at you and cannot tell what's in your eyes.  
I talk to you, but all that comes out of your mouth are lies.  
  
  
I see how you hurt and I don't understand.  
All your true feelings are kept in a far away land.  
  
  
A land we called love,  
But now it's destruction.  
  
  
A land God made from above,  
and now we call it seduction.   
  
  
It's true in a way we both long for each other.  
But we both seem to long for another.   
  
  
Another person we both thought we were,  
But now it seems that this person I thought you were is now a blur.   
  
  
This is a bitter sweet heart that will end in destruction.  
And this is a bitter sweet part that needs some construction.  
  
  
Why I hold on, I do not know why.  
I should move on yes, but I'd rather just die.  
  
  
You caused destruction in my heart.  
You caused destruction because you thought it would be smart.  
  
  
I hate you, I hate you so deeply.  
I hate you, but I'm hating you sweetly.


	17. Untitled #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poetry that I've written whilst growing up, some written for school and some written for my own pleasure.

**Untitled #1**  
  
  
I feel sick to the stomach,  
but there's nothing I can do,  
I'm head over heels in love with you.  
  
I shouldn't feel this way,  
each and every day,  
painful tears stream down my face,  
I feel so out of place.  
  



	18. Untitled #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poetry that I've written whilst growing up, some written for school and some written for my own pleasure.

**Untitled #2**  
  
  
I can't take these broken dreams,  
you're always here but never there.  
When you look you see my soul,  
but all I see is cold, so cold.  
  
  
It's like you are haunting me,  
but you do it with love.  
You can see in me what no one else can,  
why can't I see you?


	19. If I Could Tell You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poetry that I've written whilst growing up, some written for school and some written for my own pleasure.

**If I Could Tell You**  
  
  
When I see you in the morning,  
it brightens up my day.  
There are so many thoughts on my mind,  
so many words I want to say.  
  
  
I want to tell you how I feel,  
but the words I cannot find.  
They're all mixed up with my thoughts  
that are running through my mind.  
  
  
I've been keeping it locked up  
because I know there's not a chance.  
You never look my way.  
You don't even take a glance.  
  
  
You don't even know you're doing this,  
toying with my heart.  
I wish I could just tell you,  
but I don't know where to start.  
  
  
Should I tell you how much you mean to me  
or how bad I want to be with you.  
If I were to say these things  
how would you react, what would you do?  
  
  
Would you never talk to me again?  
Would you never look my way?  
That would just bring me back  
to where I am today.  
  
  
Then I'd start all over  
and choose a different route  
to make you understand  
my feelings that want out.  
  
  
I don't know what to do  
or even how to say.  
Maybe I should lock it up  
and keep myself away.  
  
  
My heart would ache even more,  
but maybe for the good.  
I just really want to tell you  
only if I could.


	20. The Red and White Striped Lighthouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poetry that I've written whilst growing up, some written for school and some written for my own pleasure.

**The Red and White Striped Lighthouse**  
  
  
The red and white striped lighthouse,  
Standing by the sea,  
As quiet as a mouse,   
Telling boats where it be.  
  
  
Against the rocks a wave crashes.  
The lighthouse just stares on.  
Suddenly some lightning flashes,  
But he's gonna stare till dawn.  
  
  
The red and white striped lighthouse,  
Standing by the sea,  
As quiet as a mouse,   
Telling boats where it be.  
  
  
He shines his light through the thick fog,  
As rain darkens the sands.  
He shines his light through all the smog.  
On the rocks he proudly stands.  
  
  
The red and white striped lighthouse,  
Standing by the sea,  
As quiet as a mouse,   
Telling boats where it be.  
  
  
The rising sun makes the ocean glisten bright.  
A couple comes out to see the astonishing sight.  
There is no need to shine, for it's no longer night,  
And the lighthouse slowly fades out its light.


End file.
